Son of a Mobster
by Dejavu1978
Summary: Assumptions defined Randy all his life. No one knew who he really was nor did they care. Living in his father's mobster shadow was something he delt with until he met a girl that made him want to fight for freedom from a legacy he had no intentions of fullfilling. AU fiction.


Chapter 1

Everyone's head was bowed. The priest was in the middle the prayer that meant to see the congregation through the week, but all Randy could think about was the cold air flowing from the vent just above his head. He rubbed his hands and glanced beside him. His stepmother held a hand to her belly, no doubt saying a prayer of her own for her unborn child. On her other side, his father, Adrian, eyes closed, bobbed his head in agreement to every word intended to bless him. Why the man did not burst into flames the moment stepped inside the cathedral was a mystery when just the day before he had attempted to perform an unconventional abortion on his wife and then proceeded to choke Randy unconscious, punishment for daring to come to her aid.

Randy had never cared much for Eva, dodging her in the hallways at home and pretending he didn't hear when she spoke to him, but things were different now. After all, the child she carried was his blood and innocent of all blame. Yet, when the moon settled in the night sky, Randy wondered if he had made a mistake saving his unborn sibling, condemning the fetus to witness the unspeakable acts of the family business.

Finally, mass was over and he jumped to his feet. His best friend, Jacob surely waited outside, impatient for their normal Sunday double.

Jenithyah's normal sun filled sky was overcast by charcoal grey clouds, darkening the day and triggering the street lamps to illuminate. Randy shrugged off the chilling wind, threw his hand up to greet his friend and took the steps two at a time.

Jacob stood against Randy's brand new Camaro with his normal grin, combing strawberry blonde stubs that had grown just long enough to require styling. Pale blue, beady eyes sunk into dark circled sockets and a fresh puncture hole in the nook of his elbow, revealed that he was using again.

"It's about time." Jacob complained. "I'm kind of getting sick of waking up just to meet you for lunch. I don't get why your dad drags you to church anyway." He chuckled. "Hell, I can't think of anything more hypocritical."

Randy glanced behind him; people were just beginning to exit the church.

"Will you shut up and get in the car." Jacob had no control of his volume and no filter between his brain and his mouth, spitting out words that would earn him a fatal punishment if they fell on federal ears.

Across the street, a navy blue four door started its engine. Agent Cornell appeared unaccompanied by his partner, but would no doubt still be in tow, just out of Randy's rear view. Ironically, Cornell's presence brought Randy security. The man had befriended him when he was just a boy, talking to him while he walked to school and giving him little gifts like candy or small trinkets, usually he would approach him the morning after his father had left him with bruised skin and a battered self-image.

Faintly, he remembered spending time at the man's home, but he couldn't think of why or how the recollection could be accurate. Collins had been the father he wished he had, making him a large banana split and reading him a story until he fell asleep.

Another memory, one of a little girl with long black hair, puzzled him more. He felt something warm inside when he took her hand or saw her smile, even though he was eight and she was barely walking, her eyes, too impossibly big and blue to be anything more than the dream of a affection hungry youngster.

Now, he was fifteen and he knew Cornell's hand of friendship was offered under false pretenses. The man had attempted to work him over, hoping his promises of a better life would persuade Randy to tell all he knew about the world he lived in and he would have been successful if Randy had known the facts that he now hid in deep crevices of his soul.

"You're quiet." Jacob interrupted his deliberation. His best friend, no matter how intoxicated knew when to drag him out of his thoughts.

"That car's following again." His eyes had been jumping from the road to the rear view.

"What else is new? Damn, Parker's is packed again. Its gonna be supper time before we eat."

Parker's Grill was the busiest restaurant in town on the weekends and when they pulled into the parking lot, there was nowhere for Randy to bring his wheels to rest. Circling it like the week before, waiting for customers to exit picking left-overs off their shirts on the way to their vehicles, irritated his grumbling stomach that had skipped breakfast.

"Think you could live without your mushrooms?"

"If it gets me fed quicker, I'll get by." Usually Jacob would not stray from his favorite dish. Ten minutes away, Randy knew Penelope's Diner would have empty booths and could quickly serve him his burger, but they did not serve the mushrooms Jacob craved and ate on almost everything.

Made from an old railroad dining car, or at least designed to appear as if it had, the metal exterior reflected the lights and walking through the door was like traveling into the past. On the wall hung old metal ads featuring colas and entrees costing less than a quarter. Everything from the red, fifties era booths to the old record playing jukebox reminded patrons of a simpler time.

Randy dropped a few dollars into the old machine and clicked its buttons; playing the eighties country tracks that irritated Jacob who preferred the profanity slinging rap artists.

"You bore me," Jacob complained reaching for a sticky menu then pointing to the old man who sat in the far corner reading a newspaper. "I think that's the owner. Let's see if he has any spirit left in him." Menacingly he struck a lighter and stuck the flame to the napkin holder. The white of the napkins it held began to blacken.

"Stop." Randy jerked it out and stuck it in his glass of water.

"Oh come on. You know he won't do anything. Everyone knows who your father is."

"I'm not my father." Randy reminded him, tired of the people he came in contact with assuming he would do the same harm his old man did.

"You should take advantage. You can do anything you want and no one, not even the cops would touch you."

His attention was instantly diverted when the kitchen door swung open and a waitress wandered out balancing four entrees perfectly on her arms and made her way to the table behind them. He twisted in the booth to get another look at her perfect shape. Her hair was pulled up neatly in a ponytail and her face was free of make-up, but Randy didn't think she needed it. Her beauty was natural, something not many girls could pull off.

"Can I take your order?"

"Huh?"

She had repeated the question twice before but it had not registered that she was speaking to him, but when it did, and he realized he was staring with a dumb expression, his face turned crimson. "Do you want to eat or not?" she smiled, seemingly taking his blank moment as a compliment.

"I know you don't I?"

"She's in our science class, dip wad." Jacob answered. "You got any mushrooms back there Nerdzilla?"

Randy was in shock. This girl looked nothing like the girl they had nicknamed Nerdzilla, the girl with the glasses who always had a book in her hand. He had never joined the teasing, yet he had never bothered to learn her given name.

"Ya, we got them, but not for you."

"Oh, come on, doll." Jacob begged, poking out his bottom lip.

"Do I look plastic to you?" The waitress directed her comment to Randy and completely ignoring Jacob.

"That's why this place is going out of business."

"You'll have to excuse my friend. He wasn't raised with manners."

"Hump, I could mention a few choice sentences about the quilities you were raised with." Randy gave him a stern warning glare.

"Trust me, I don't have to be told anything about Randy and his family." The town's assumptions always cut him deep, but coming from her they seemed to rip out his insides.

"Just bring us a dish of mushrooms, please." He could no longer meet her eyes.

"What we have are for Pop."

"Let the kid have some." The old man in the corner, without glancing away from his paper spoke. The owner had a kind voice and didn't seem the first bit nervous about Randy dining in his restaurant. "Been meaning to add them to the menu anyway."

"Guess the rumors are true."

"What rumors?" Randy asked after giving her his order.

"Orton's do always get what they want."

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